


The Duck Who Has Everything (Under Control)

by Brickmaster_Guy



Category: DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: Airplanes, Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Champagne, Eating, Episode: s02e22 GlomTales!, Evil Plans, F.O.W.L. | Fiendish Organization for World Larceny (Disney), Fights, Scheming, Self-Doubt, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Worth Issues, Swearing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:42:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28284930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brickmaster_Guy/pseuds/Brickmaster_Guy
Summary: Scrooge and his family are the one thing between F.O.W.L. and complete ownership over the world. So, in the shadows, the organization plots to remove them from the picture, using whatever methods are necessary. Some of the family is caught in the crossfire, finding themselves having to balance family and pragmatism.
Comments: 10
Kudos: 15





	1. Phase Zero

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! If you read my short Fenton/Gyro story, then this is the larger work I mentioned in the notes.  
> First of all, this is going to (eventually) involve things/topics like: blackmail, removal of one's free will, and at least one major character death; just as a warning. Second, this story is going to focus on F.O.W.L. being frankly more competent than they are in the actual show. Third, any notes, criticisms, or comments are extremely appreciated! (Especially regarding how best to write dialogue of Scrooge & Flintheart, as well as if characters are written well/correct)  
> Hope you enjoy it!

Bradford set his champagne flute down on the table in front of him. He straightened his suit, cleared his throat, and sat up straight. Across the table were Bentley and Buford, watching as they downed much of their own champagne. Bradford reached over and brought down the shutter over the plane’s window beside him, and then he began to speak.

“As you two know, one of our informants has let us know that the entirety of McDuck Manor will be leaving for one of their expositions for a day or two, perhaps three.” The other two nodded in agreement. “Of course, excluding Louie— the green triplet.” Bradford lightly grabbed his glass and moved it out of his view of the other two board members. “The one whose plan the other day nearly destroyed the fabric of spacetime. And it would seem, in a rare turn of events for the McDuck family, that he’s being punished for that.”

“Yes, we know all this,” Bentley stated, trying to speed things up.

“Now, he’s alone at the manor, excluding the butler and the security system. And given our previous plans for the triplets, this of course presents a perfect opportunity. One made even better by his current emotional state.”

“How so?” Buford questioned.

Louie looked up from his haphazardly thrown-together sandwich, bringing his gaze to the security robot, which by all accounts was  _ pacing _ back and forth in the kitchen. Except for the robot, Louie was sitting alone in the kitchen, at the table beneath the window, as he ate lunch— a lunch that he was only able to have after using DT-87 as a means of communication to ask his mother to allow him to leave his room. His first attempts to scheme his way out of his room and out of the house had failed so far, and now a couple of hours had passed; he was allowed to leave to eat lunch now. Hurray.

Louie’s elbows propped up on the table, the sandwich held with both hands in front of him, he looked into the middle distance as his mind again came back to the reason for his grounding, and then quickly to his family leaving for the perfect adventure— the perfect  _ vacation _ — without him. As he absentmindedly took another bite, the bot’s incessant patrolling seemed to fight for Louie’s attention, even as he tried to enjoy his lunch. Annoyed, Louie complained out loud, through his unchewed food, “Come on, I’m just eating!”

The robot stopped for a moment, turning as if to get a good look at him, to predict if he were scheming again, undoubtedly, before it turned back and resumed its pacing. Louie sighed heavily. Unhappy, annoyed, and, indeed, hungry, he’d put together a lunch perhaps larger than he really needed. A thick and meaty sandwich, a big bag of chips, a Pep (not his first of the day, probably), and a handful or two of cookies from the pantry. With not much else to do, annoyed with his family’s betrayal, and with no supervision— well, not  _ no _ supervision, he glared at the patrolling robot— he appreciated the ability to ostensibly stress eat. That wasn’t a ploy, plot, or scheme, was it, huh? He took another bite.

Sure, his get-rich-quick-scheme hadn’t been a  _ great  _ idea; messing with time never seemed to work out well. But, he had learned his lesson! Really! Not to mention, his mom’s punishment was a bit over the top, right? Grounded from the adventure of his dreams? Forced to stay home, alone, with nothing to do except eat, sleep, or watch… ethics lectures? And forced to give up Louie, Inc.? Sure, it is—  _ was _ … a little rough around the edges, but it was his dream! Couldn’t his mom see? Huey was book-smart, Dewey was courageous and confident to a fault, and Louie? Scheming, deception, the… what little charisma he really had, that was  _ all  _ he had. And he was to give it all up? The  _ one _ thing he had!? The  _ one  _ thing that kept him from being sent home in a _ body bag _ at the end of all of the adventures he was dragged on— adventures that only served to make Uncle Scrooge richer, as Louie was rewarded in, what,  _ experience _ ?

Louie absentmindedly pulled at his hoodie, down by the pockets; he pulled it down. As it were, what good were ethics anyway; was what Scrooge did to get rich ethical? It seemed that if they were the reason he had to stop with all potential scheming, with all of his plans to get rich, then they just got in the way. Maybe if he watched that lecture, he’d think differently, but there was no reason to joke— he wasn’t gonna watch them. When he was done with lunch, which, wow, he hadn’t realized he’d almost finished already, he was going back to his room, and he was going to try again to get his way out of being grounded; this was his thing! Surely he could figure it out. Because otherwise...

“It’s plain to see that he’s both physically and emotionally estranged from his family, and it would seem that with all of his recent failures, the promise of a success may entice him. We’ve already recorded half a dozen failed attempts to escape the mansion today. Given that none of them have come close to succeeding, and that he seems in no hurry to give up yet, he might grind himself down and prepare himself  _ for _ us,” Bradford declared.

“Well then, what the hell are we doing over the Atlantic right now?” Buford asked.

Bradford sighed. “That’s where we hit a snag.” He drank a bit more of his champagne. “Glomgold,” he disparaged.

“What’s he done?” Buford questioned.

“Currently, he’s preparing a group of some of Scrooge’s greatest rivals in an attempt to take Scrooge down. And likely, to try and win that stupid wager of his.”

Glomgold strode towards the front doors of Waddle with a pompous swagger— not uncommon for him. His ploys had worked with the Beagle Boys, and next was Mark Beaks, who would be able to overtake Scrooge’s chicken’s tech nonsense. And so far, it seemed he was doing alright on time; he only had today and tomorrow to prepare before it was time to exact his revenge, and it seemed that he would have Beaks on board before lunchtime. His family was filling out quickly, and he had high hopes that together, they would best Scrooge. And Flintheart? Well, he would do what he had always set out to do, and he would best Scrooge as the richest duck in the world. And as for his promise to Katherine, maybe it would be best if he held onto the deed; he didn’t need to give her what he’d promised after she’d already served her purpose— especially not if that deed made him that much richer!

He didn’t need to reward his tools. Flintheart just needed to use them, and then they could be cast aside. And in this instance, his scheme— his  _ family _ — were just that: tools. And when he was done with them, it didn't matter what they wanted from him: the new richest duck in the world. But for now, he just had to gather his tools. And then, before the bet concluded, he would strike. Simple. And easy for someone such as himself.

“Given that this is his last bid to avoid losing his bet, he’ll likely try whatever it is he’s planning within two days’ time. And given the risks that would come into play in trying to deal with Louie with  _ Glomgold _ involved…”

“Seems best to avoid that,” Bentley suggested with a light chuckle and a drink from his glass.

“Indeed. At best, an encounter like that could preemptively launch us into stage two, or even three. And at worst, it would jeopardize everything. And of course, there’s nothing gained from us making ourselves more known or more obvious to Scrooge and his family.” Bentley nodded. “But, given the timeframe inferred from Glomgold’s plan, it near-perfectly overlaps with the timeframe we have of Scrooge and his family being absent from the mansion.”

“So, what do we have?” Buford wondered.

“Right now? Nothing, unfortunately,” Bradford stated.

“If this is as good of an opportunity as you make it sound like it is, then how can we  _ possibly  _ be better off  _ wasting  _ it?” Buford continued.

“It would both handle the problem with the triplets and give us an additional, extremely useful point of entry, yes. But we can’t risk it. And we know that Glomgold is inept; this plan, like his others, won’t come to fruition.”

“So?” Buford dryly asked.

“We just have to wait for now, and look for any opportunities. Once we can go in, I’ll give our agent a call, and I’ll go meet Louie. Lead him on about his anger with his family, get him to go in-depth about what little money Scrooge has given him, get him to talk about his ability to deceive and charm and scheme, and then suggest to him that he help us ‘steal some of Scrooge's money.’ I guarantee he’ll join before his family even returns.”

“What’s left to handle after that, then?” Bentley wondered.

“Glomgold himself and Beakley’s granddaughter’s friend. Then, we move on to phase two.”

“It’s been so long. Do you think we’re truly ready to move on to phase two?” Bentley pondered.

“I believe we’ll be ready,” Bradford said with a subtle smirk before he downed the remaining liquid in his champagne flute.


	2. Phase One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Glomgold's plans are made known to the rest of his scheme-family, and the resulting fallout allows for Bradford to begin his recruitment drive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello. So sorry that this chapter took a while. I just couldn't get myself to get stuff done for a bit. And I originally wanted to write the first part, with Glomgold, out with dialogue and the like, but I delayed doing it so much that I decided to go with what I have now instead. Either way, I hope you enjoy it.  
> And if you got two emails or notifications or whatever about this chapter— my bad; I had difficulty with this chapter when uploading.

Uh oh.

Glomgold’s scheme wasn’t perhaps as polished as he had originally thought. No, that wasn’t true. He’d gotten almost everyone on board already, and he was sure that they could collectively match the McDuck family, and he could take over his archnemesis’s company and fortune, to become the richest duck alive! Or, his slides about his intent to double-cross his temporary allies had just been discovered by Mark Beaks.

Beaks had found them in Don Karnage’s flagship while Glomgold was occupied. And quickly, he’d extracted their contents, and was rattling off to his new family about Glomgold’s intentions. Of course, his villainous monologue came back to bite him. It was always him. Why didn't any of the other villains have their villainous monologues come back to bite  _ them _ ? Er, well, they also did. Glomgold didn’t quite have the time to mull over it, the family members converging on him as he stumbled through a jumble of attempted lies to defend himself.

His plans to not only take over Scrooge’s fortune, but also everyone who would have helped him’s fortune, were made known to everyone on the ship now, and it was clear that none of them were very happy at the prospect of being so thoroughly swindled by Flintheart.

Don Karnage’s sword was drawn, and the Beagle Boys were about ready to lunge at Glomgold. Panicking, he sprinted to the side, where there was an opening in the mob that allowed him to dash towards the helm of the ship.

Mark Beaks briefly distracted Glomgold as the rest of the family once again tried to surround him. This time, when he tried to make a break for it, he got caught on the ship’s wheel and brought the ship off course. The floor was unsteady as the ship lurched, and Glomgold saw his opportunity as the backstabbed villains stopped and tried to steady themselves for a moment to keep from falling over.

Glomgold began to violently tamper with the ship's various control measures, and the shouts that Don Karnage gave, reaching his hand out as if to stop Glomgold, were in vain. Within moments, one of the Beagle Boys had lunged out to grab Glomgold, but the damage had already been done, as the ship had begun to plummet out of the air. The Beagle Boy’s trajectory brought him to continue flying forward as the ground dropped out from all of them and they entered freefall within the ship. In the air, they all struggled to regain control over the ship. Either way, it seemed that Glomgold’s plan had reached a firm and indisputable end. At this point, he simply hoped that he would be able to get away from the melee and find his way to a parachute to escape the crashing ship.

The elevator lurched to a stop, and after a beat, the doors squeaked open, and Bradford began to step out. Walking into the boardroom, his pocket beeped, and before he sat down, he pulled his pager out and glanced at it. Then, as quickly as he had sat down, he stood up again and slid his pager back into his pocket. He looked at the other two board members, who were looking at him with a vague sense of confusion.

“Glomgold’s scheme failed. He just came crashing out of the sky,” Bradford explained.

“So what are you doing now?” Bentley asked.

“I’m going after Louie. And I’ll return with information as soon as possible.” Bradford adjusted his tie; he seemed to be in a bit of a rush to get out of there.

“Good luck; there’s a lot riding on this, of course,” Buford stated. After a short moment and a quiet ‘hmph’ from Bradford, he opened the door to the boardroom and left again. And faster than before, he paced to the elevator.

They’d put a lot of time and effort into making sure that they could keep an eye on the manor, and on the McDuck family at large. As it were, they were of course their main opponents; once things got going, and phase four had begun, there was little resistance that they would come across that they couldn’t deal with. Contrast that with this family— Scrooge and his incessant adventuring, his niece and nephew that nearly cost him his cover many years ago, and now the new generation, with the triplets and Bentina’s granddaughter. He adjusted his stance in the elevator. Bah, if they were going to keep growing, perhaps they ought to prioritize speed, lest the family get even more roadblocks.

But, the board has more or less succeeded in maintaining a line of sight on a majority of the family at all times. Their access to the defense satellites, to the manor’s security system, and, if it was ever deemed necessary, the board could gain complete access to many of their smartphones.

Through that constant surveillance, some of Bradford’s hopes had been confirmed. As of recently, it seemed Donald was completely out of the picture— one less character to worry about, hopefully. Magica’s amulet would be easy to handle, as it wasn’t under any significant protection. And Louie was indeed worth taking a special interest in. With a bit of investment, Bradford could make a useful ally out of him. All it would take was a little bit of greasing the wheels and some lying; nothing that Bradford couldn’t do.

The elevator doors again slid open, and Bradford stepped out. But first, he’d need to guarantee his access to the kid, without any interference.

Bradford watched the agent’s head peek around the corner, then retreat as he said, “Oh, it’s you. What do you want?”

“Well, first,” Bradford somewhat quietly began as he walked closer, “have you spoken with your assistant?”

He sighed, and near-whispered, “No, not yet.”

“If you think he could be a liability, then—”

“He’s not a  _ liability _ , I'm just… a bit conflicted about—”

“Are you having second thoughts?” Bradford suspiciously questioned.

“No. But I don’t want to  _ lie _ to him about this.”

“Then tell him what we’re offering you. The offer is extended to him, you know.”

Gyro seemed to look at Bradford for a prolonged moment, trying to gain some insight. “Yeah, I know, but… I know he’d feel conflicted about it.”

“Either you get him on board, or we consider him a potential threat.” He stated that plainly.

The agent seemed nearly shocked at that. “What?” he loudly wondered.

“Dr. Gearloose?” Fenton shouted from the other side of the lab; he lacked any line of sight to the two, “who’re you talking to?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Gyro loudly replied. He waited for a moment, and when he heard nothing more, he looked back at Bradford. “A potential threat? Really?”

“We know what our concerns are, and in his case, either he’s an ally or he’s an enemy.”

“So if he’s a threat…?”

“Don’t concern yourself with that. Just get him on board. I don't care how you go about it. Tell him what Scrooge is having you do, remember?”

“Yes, I remember.”

“And remember what this all gets you. You and your assistant,” Bradford reminded Gyro.

Gyro looked up and locked eyes with Bradford for a moment. “Yeah, I know.” Gyro then stopped for a moment. He asked, “Why did you come down here?”

“Ah, yes. I need you to shut down the manor’s security system for a few hours.”

“Why?”

“It’s not your concern.”

“Scrooge’s niece had me reprogram it, if she finds out that—”

“She won’t.”

“And the green nephew’s the only one there, so if something happens to him, I’ll—”

“It won’t.”

Gyro sighed and quickly fixed his hair with his hand, “You’re sure?”

“I am.”

Gyro sat back on a small rolling stool and pulled over towards his general workspace. He looked back over to Bradford. “Everything?”

“Yes.”

“Yeah, alright.”

“And did you handle what I asked you for yesterday?”

“For the butler?” Bradford nodded. “It’s over there.” Gyro pointed at a table several meters away, piled with various trinkets and inventions. “It’s purple and circular. You’ll find it.” Gyro began to type away at his terminal. Bradford began to search through the things on the table.

Upon locating it, he walked back over to Gyro, who glanced at it for a moment and confirmed that that was it. And then, within only a minute or two, Gyro stopped typing; it was done.

“Now, if it’s down for several hours, someone might start to get suspicious. The green kid’ll probably start getting suspicious in maybe an hour or so, if not earlier, so—”

“Great. Thank you. I’ll page you to let you know when to bring it back up.” Bradford was walking back to the elevator, with the small purple trinket in his pocket now.

“Actually, I’d rather you—” the elevator doors shut as he started to get up and correct Bradford. Gyro sat back down again and mumbled to himself, “Page me? Who the hell  _ pages _ people anymore? Is he just gonna call me?"

After a few moments in which Gyro mused over what had just happened, he began to get back to work. And only a few moments after that, Fenton walked over from where he had been working throughout the confrontation.

“Dr. Gearloose?” Fenton asked so as to let his presence be known as he walked in from behind.

Gyro looked over his shoulder. He smiled subtly and thinly. “Yes?” Gyro began to turn to face him, swiveling in his chair.

“Were you talking to someone just now?”

Gyro quietly sighed. “I, uh, yeah.”

Fenton could see the worry on Gyro’s face. He wasn’t very good at hiding it. “Wanna talk about it?”

Gyro looked away for a moment. “Yeah.”

Bradford returned to the ground floor of the office and began to make his way towards his driver. He would stop by and see Louie and would come back with an integral ally. At this rate, it seemed that it might only be a few more days before they had recruited all of the allies that they had set out to get. Bradford couldn't help but feel pride in this achievement; the plan they’d been so meticulously creating, revising, and following for years was finally coming to fruition.


	3. Grandnephew

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louie gets a visitor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey. This chapter's a fun one, and it's an important one. A lot of it was written using different means than I would usually use, so there may be a few spelling mistakes that I didn't catch. Lemme know if you happen to see any. Otherwise, I hope you enjoy!

Louie lied on his back on his bed. The covers were messy, with the bed not having been made after the previous night’s sleep. He stared at the bottom of the bunk above him, not really focusing on it. Eventually, he sighed and rolled onto his side, laying his head on his arm, and he stared off at the rest of his room and watched the security robot pass by in the hallway occasionally. It felt like he was in prison or something.

Of his potential schemes that he had or could think up to get out of being grounded, he'd exhausted almost all of them. And with the only other thing he could do being those ethics lectures or whatever, he was really just stuck wasting his day, either pining for the vacation the rest of his family was on, or kind of absentmindedly thinking about any efforts to escape DT-87's grasp— though there weren't many that he thought were left to think of.

He had been punished for his faulty scheme, and here he was,  _ still _ unable to come up with one good plan. Was he really good at anything, then? It certainly didn’t feel like he was. And that was just in isolation. When he thought of his brothers, it hardly felt like he was even comparable; they had the things that they were good at, and Louie didn’t. Sometimes it didn’t feel like he was right for the family at all— it didn’t feel like they really understood him anyway.

His mom didn’t understand how he felt, and Louie felt that she didn’t even seem interested in trying to help. And as it were, Huey would be successful, Dewey would be famous, and Louie wouldn’t be rich— how could he be? He had hardly learned anything from the family’s adventures. It all just felt kinda pointless.

When Louie felt tears nearly starting to well in his eyes, he breathed in deeply and turned once again onto his back. There was no point in purposefully making himself feel worse, even if it felt like the only thing he could really focus on then. So, he tried to steer his sour thought process back towards the only other thing that could hope to occupy him at that point: trying to get around the security robot.

Louie wasn’t sure how long he lied there, on his back, with his mind nearly blank as he kept from thinking about how he felt— just, tired. Maybe it was a quarter of an hour, maybe longer. He had no idea. But, he was pulled out from his near-comatose state by the sound of a car pulling up to the manor. Given how rarely  _ anyone _ would come up to the manor and get let in, he presumed near-instantly that it was his family returning. He slowly brought himself up and went over to the window, suddenly filled with a whole grab bag of emotions. When he looked out though, it wasn’t his family.

He was confused at first, with a dull but slowly growing nervousness within him as he wondered who it was in the limo that had pulled up. Then, when the door opened and one of the old businessmen from Scrooge’s company stepped out, he relaxed; it was just one of Scrooge’s business partners who didn’t know he’d left. He withdrew from the window, sure that Duckworth would be capable of letting the guy know that Scrooge was gone. He lied back down on the bed as the doorbell rang. Louie’s mind began to wander, and he was only just starting to mull over his insecurities again when the doorbell rang a second time. He changed position and glanced over toward the hall.

Then, it rang a third time. Louie raised an eyebrow. Out into the open hall and throughout the house, he shouted, “Duckworth?” There was no response. “Duckworth?” He started to sit up. The only response was a fourth ring of the doorbell. Louie sighed and got up; Duckworth must be busy with his own things again. He said out into the air, just to cover his tracks, “I’m just getting the door— not trying to escape again. Please don’t shoot me with lasers.” And he stepped out into the hall. He braced himself for a moment, expecting his request to be ignored, but there were no lasers. So, as the business guy started to loudly and clearly impatiently knock on the door, Louie started to rush down the stairs to the front door, unimpeded by the security system.

Louie unlocked the front door and opened it. As the doorway stood open, the businessman put on as friendly a smile as it seemed he could manage. He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could say anything, Louie stated, "Scrooge is off on one of his adventures. Sorry." Louie went to close the door, ending the conversation.

The buzzard cleared his throat. "Hold on."

Louie stopped closing the door. He quietly sighed. "Yeah?"

"You're Scrooge's grandnephew, aren't you?"

"There's a word for it?"

"You're… his niece's son?"

Louie thought for a short second. "Yeah."

"Your family's a bit difficult to keep track of," Bradford lightly chuckled. "Why aren't you on the adventure with him? I thought he brought his family on those."

Louie quietly sort of hummed, or perhaps grumbled. "Yeah, well, not this time. Thanks."

"Why not?" Louie kept starting to close the front door, only to stop when the businessman asked another question. Either Louie was being too hasty with trying to end the conversation, or the buzzard was too pushy. Either way, he didn't care— he mostly just wanted to get away from this conversation and stop thinking about this yet again.

"It's complicated."

"Well, do you  _ want _ to go on this adventure?"

Louie sighed again. This guy didn't know it, but he was kind of pressing all the wrong buttons. And speeding through them, too. "Yes, I did. But I'm grounded for messing everything up the other day. Ask my… what did you call me earlier? Something nephew?"

"Grandnephew."

"Ask my granduncle at the next business meeting, when he's back in town." He started to close the door again, faster this time.

"Well, hold on." The businessman literally stuck his foot in the door. Louie swung the door open, starting to get a bit annoyed. "Are you alone here, then? Is someone watching you?"

"There's a security system. I'm fine."

He seemed to suddenly think of something. "I can't believe I forgot to ask— what's your name, kid?"

"Louie."

"Bradford." He stuck his hand out for a handshake. Louie refrained from slamming the door shut or rolling his eyes and reciprocated the handshake. "Tell me, what was it that got you grounded?"

"Why do you care?"

"If I recall correctly, you're interested in getting rich like your granduncle Scrooge?"

"Yes?" He was trying to figure out where Bradford was coming from.

"Then it seems like a good idea to get to know you. After all, we're trying to do that, too." He smirked.

"Oh, right, I remember you, from the board."

"Yes, exactly."

"Well, I got grounded for trying to get rich myself. I messed with time and stuff and put my whole family in danger." He rubbed the back of his neck with his right hand. "My mom told me to give it up, and grounded me from going on the vacation with everyone." He paused. "So, unless you're giving me a check for a million dollars, I'm kinda off the 'getting rich' thing for now. Thanks, though."

"She told you what?" He seemed incredulous, or at the very least, surprised.

"I… had this, well, stupid dream." He was embarrassed; all of this felt stupider than ever. "I wanted to have a company— Louie, Inc." He stared down at the ground, by Bradford's feet. "And I wanted it to make me rich. But she told me to stop that. Mostly cause the only thing I know how to do is make dumb plans that always fail." Now he was just starting to feel sad again.

Louie looked up to see Bradford looking back at him with what seemed like a genuine mix of interest and sympathy. "Well, let me tell you: don't listen to her. Keep at it. You need a bit of that shrewd scheming anyway if you wanna get rich." He smiled.

"Thanks." Louie did appreciate the advice.

"But— and pardon me if this perhaps too much— are you not already rich? You go on adventures retrieving priceless artifacts, working with the richest duck alive. Have you not started to save some money up from those?"

"I wish. Scrooge doesn't let us have any of it. It all goes in his Money Bin. I've got a bit, but Scrooge doesn't know about any of it."

"Really? I thought Scrooge cared about his family."

"As long as it doesn't cost him anything, apparently."

"It would seem." Bradford adjusted his glasses. "Well, what do you think of Scrooge— despite him not supporting you?"

Frowning slightly, "I don't know. I don't like going on the adventures much in the first place, cause they're so dangerous. And I don't get anything from them. We've had problems, but… I don't know." And he really didn't. It felt he was at a sort of impasse when it came to Scrooge. The family appreciated him, and he usually came through to help whenever anything bad happened, but those bad things usually only happened because of Scrooge's adventures. And Bradford was right: for saying that he cared about this family so much, he sure hated helping them when it came to money. Uncle Donald was still living in the houseboat in the pool! Sure, Donald seemed to be happy with it, but Scrooge never even offered to help. Louie was starting to feel betrayed by not just his mom, but his, uh, granduncle, too.

"I see." Bradford cleared his throat. "Are you still willing to get rich?"

"I guess."

"Come on, show some determination," Bradford implored.

"Is there a point to this, or…?"

"Fine then. My point is that I have an offer for you that you might like."

"Yeah?" Louie couldn't deny that he was a bit intrigued.

"Would you like some of Scrooge's money?" Louie didn't respond immediately, and it wasn't easy to tell if it was from shock or deliberation. Either way, Bradford continued, "You could take some, invest it, put it towards growing your wealth. And the rest… you could spend however you wanted. Just as a suggestion, Louie. A suggestion from a potential business partner."

Louie raised his eyebrows. "So this is something I'm helping you with? Cause you're not just  _ giving _ me money."

"Indeed. You see, your family might not appreciate you or your skills," Bradford briefly paused, "but I think that you have a lot to offer. And I think that we both can get behind a mutually beneficial agreement, don't you?"

"What are you gonna do to Scrooge?"

"We're not gonna  _ do _ anything to him. But surely you agree with me, that perhaps it's time that some of his money gets diverted to other people who can handle it. To people who deserve it. To his family. To  _ you _ , Louie." He was very convincing with his speech.

"How much are you gonna take from him? Would he know that I helped you do this?"

"Enough to make you a rich young man, that's for sure. I can offer you a minimum of a billion. Maybe more, if you play your part well. And he won't know a thing— not if you do what you do best." Bradford smiled. "And don't mention anything about this potential agreement to him."

"...What do I have to do?"

"How about this?" He reached into a pocket in the inside of his suit. "For now, just keep me in the loop." He handed Louie a small white card, with a phone number printed on it in small, neat, and black lettering. "Keep track of everything that happens in the manor and with your family— especially Scrooge. Send me text messages, call me, even schedule to meet me at the Money Bin— whatever works for you and keeps everything under wraps. Do you understand?"

"...You mentioned my family. They're not gonna get dragged into this, are they?"

"No. But we  _ do _ need to know what's going on if we're to go ahead."

"We deal with a lot of people who, like, want us dead and all that. Like Glomgold. You're not one of those guys, are you?"

"Like someone who wants you dead? No, no, certainly not."

"Are you sure? I… honestly, I'm reluctant to agree to this; I have a bad feeling about all this."

"I assure you." He had a rather blank look on his face. But he also had a seemingly genuine smile that made Louie feel less suspicious. Not unsuspicious, of course. This entire conversation had gone from a waste of time to exciting to suddenly worrying, and he wasn't sure why the sudden feeling of anxiety came from.

And as if he knew exactly what Louie was thinking about, Bradford piped up, "I understand if you're nervous; I'm putting a lot of trust into you— trust your family is reluctant to give you. But rest assured, I trust you and your capabilities fully."

"That's not…" Louie trailed off. He thought some more. He looked over his shoulder, into the house, as if the manor itself might lend itself to his deliberation process. Then, looking back, he rather quietly asked, "All I need to do is let you know what's going on in the manor?"

"For now."

"Then what?"

"A little bit of deception, manipulation perhaps. That's not too much, is it?"

"No," Louie thought about it more still. "If I decide that the deal's off, then is anything… bad… gonna happen?"

"No, you're free to back out whenever you like. And I assume we can still be cordial, yes?

"I don't know. Scrooge would hate me."

"He won't even know. Besides, it's not like he's helped you— the richest duck in the world."

"You're sure that none of us will get found out?"

"Hmph. If you're too overwhelmed, then I can leave and we can both—"

"No! I… I agree."

"You'll join me?"

"Yeah."

Bradford put his hand out for another handshake. Louie, still with uncertainties lingering in his mind, put his hand out and grabbed Bradford's. He shook it with a strong grip.

"Well, I trust you'll be in touch once your family returns from their vacation."

"Yeah."

"In that case, I should probably leave you alone." Bradford adjusted his tie. "Thank you for your time."

"Thanks," Louie said out to Bradford as he started to take his leave.

Bradford stopped and said over his shoulder, "Of course." He finished walking to his limo and began to head off. Louie stepped back inside and closed the door, locking it shut.

When he lied back on his bed, his mind was only more busy than before. Now, his worries over his family and his abilities took a backseat to his dual excitement and anxiety over the seemingly very significant deal he just made with Bradford. Unable to focus on any single worry or hope, he simply let his mind buzz and he tried to reassure himself with Bradford's insistence that Louie could drop out whenever he stopped supporting it. For now, it was just worries. Really it was a moot point with his family gone. But in a day or so, it would be showtime. Louie thought he could probably pull it off. He just had to hide this secret from his closest family and help a random businessman betray his granduncle. No problem.


End file.
